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Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 741 | Released on: 30/01/2026

ll, cluttered, and smelled of Sloane's acrylic paints and cheap

nd dropped her b

, eating cereal. She looked at An

"He's a pig. A literal pig in

he walked to the bedroom and pul

Sloane asked, hopp

tarted throwing clothes into the bag. "I can't

and pulled out her phone. She

ower arrangements for the gala.

goodbye. She didn't

e three dots

e Gr

Anna Roth has

sea of sycophancy. But it felt

wn, Grayson Warren was in a meeti

face up on the

ication p

has left

listening to the lawyer dron

ft the

didn't have the spine for it. She was probably t

e phone. He ope

's quarrel; it was a breach of protocol. He dialed her number

ch. It wasn't heartbreak. It was the sho

his office

her, stormed in. Preston looke

on barked at the

led to gather thei

n asked, standing up

e threw the tablet onto

on lo

Security footage. The time

pedestrian path of

She was wearing a beige trench coat

as A

down at the dark, churning water of the East

ised her hand. She w

rayson's voic

thinking about it. This was sent to our PR team

to the water. Then she stood there, sta

s heart hammer

d himself that. But if she died no

pital tanks. We look like monsters. Jayl

at the figure

ump," Grayson whisper

ands were

ack. Put her in a clinic. Drug her. I don't care. Jus

is jacket. He ran

he elevator. He opened the tracking app he

al L

ot wa

n the phone i

ideo. She wasn't jumping. S

nd sharp, flo

elevator doors closed. "

Chapter End

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Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting

Alfred Billionaires

“I was Grayson Warren's "broken doll," a disgraced socialite kept on a short leash to pay off my family's debts. To the world, I was a fragile liability; to Grayson, I was a pet he could humiliate for sport, forcing me to play the role of a mentally unstable girl while I secretly gathered evidence against his empire. The cruelty peaked when Grayson forced me to break three years of sobriety in front of his investors, mocking my struggle before making me kneel on a golf course to scrub his shoes. He treated my life like a game, literally betting my sanity against a corporate board seat while he soft-launched a new relationship with a high-profile PR queen. When the pressure triggered a massive panic attack, Grayson abandoned me in a private clinic just so he wouldn't miss a dinner reservation. Even my own mother turned against me, threatening to leak my psychiatric records and brand me a "violent delusional" if I didn't beg for Grayson's forgiveness. I was trapped between a man who owned my debt and a mother who valued her estate over my daughter's life. I realized then that they would never let me go; they would only break me until there was nothing left. They thought they had erased my soul, but they forgot I was the only witness to the night my true love, Felix, was murdered. I was done being the victim. I faked a suicide jump off the Queensboro Bridge to go off the grid, then crashed Grayson's elite gala in a dress that signaled his downfall. Just as Grayson tried to physically crush me one last time, the room went silent. Felix Law, the man the world thought was dead for three years, walked out of the shadows with a federal warrant in his hand. "Take your hands off her, Warren." The game didn't just change; it ended. Felix was back from the dead, and this time, we were burning the empire to the ground together.”